


one per customer!

by Anonymous



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Fluff without Plot, M/M, aka my new favorite tag!, also here's another fluffy as hell au for no particular reason, should i start a collection for these?, you're welcome?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-23
Updated: 2016-09-24
Packaged: 2018-08-10 12:42:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7845370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bitty works the demo table in the bakery section of a grocery store. He and his co-workers are a little obsessed with a certain customer of theirs that they've dubbed the "Hot French Dad". Except he's not actually a dad - he's a high school coach and Bitty is pretty sure Hot French Dad is flirting with him every time he stops by the demo table. </p><p>(Did someone ask for more fluffy nonsense Zimbits AUs? I gotcha covered.)</p><p>ETA: Part Two, Jack's POV or alternatively #HotFrenchDadReturns</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> from a tumblr ask: Bitty works at Costco and gives out those samples and jack is a customer who keeps coming back and bittys like, 'why doesn't you just buy it?' and jack gets all flustered bc he just wants to see the cute sample boy.

          “Hot French Dad is here,” Lardo whispered as she bustled nearby, straightening a shelf behind Bitty. It didn’t strictly need to be straightened but Bitty would have never said so. As far as he was concerned, Lardo could continue straightening the loaves of bread all day, as long as it kept her within conversation range. His shifts at the demo table were excruciatingly boring, broken up only by the occasional gossip session with Lardo or the appearance of a certain Hot French Dad.

            “I know,” he whispered back. “He already came by and claimed a sample. Good Lord, that flannel he’s wearing should be illegal. I almost swooned.”

            “Right?” Lardo said. “Someone needs to tell him that it’s not fair to dress like that when you’re already so attractive.”

            Bitty nodded in agreement.

            He was still a little embarrassed by how flustered he’d gotten a few minutes before when he’d seen the way the long sleeves of the flannel shirt pulled snugly around Hot French Dad’s biceps (which Bitty vividly remembered as beautiful and very, very large from the one time that he had come in with just a t-shirt). It was entirely unfair.

            Hot French Dad was what they had dubbed one of their most frequent customers. A tall, beautiful man who was built like a linebacker that came in every week or so to inexplicably buy mass quantities of individually wrapped snacks and small bottles of gatorade. Oh, and grab a sample of whatever confectionery delight Bitty had on the demo table that day. 

            Bitty had actually learned a few weeks before through carefully targeted questions while the man was eating one of his sample pastries that Hot French Dad was not actually a dad. Bitty thought he might be a teacher or coach of some kind, but the window of conversation had closed before he could ask and he had only seen him a few times since.

            Bitty inconspicuously smoothed down the front of his apron, flicking off the few pastry crumbs that settled there, and flicked his eyes around the bakery area floor, but it was empty. He relaxed a little and allowed himself a moment to check his reflection in the display case across from his booth.

            “Camilla checked him out last week,” Lardo said. “Says his name is Jack.”

 _Jack._ It was a nice name. Bitty liked the way it fit with his mental image of the tall, dark-haired Adonis who liked to buy mass quantities of snacks for small children on a fairly regular basis.

            “What’s do you think he’s buying today?” Bitty asked, pitching his voice low so no one passing by could hear them.

            Lardo shrugged. She was moving the baguettes from one basket to another now, all the while looking over her shoulder for a manager.

            “His cart was still empty when I saw him,” she said. “I bet it’s CLIF bars, though. He hasn’t thrown those in the rotation in a while. They’re due for a comeback.”

            “Nah,” Bitty said. “It’s gonna be the apple slices and carrots in those cute little baggies.”

            Lardo hmphed as if she disagreed and then just as quickly as she had appeared, she whispered a “Gotta go!” and fled with no explanation. Bitty was used to it by now. While he was shackled to the booth for the entirety of his shift, Lardo was meant to float around, stocking and straightening and helping customers find where the peanut butter was. Bitty vastly preferred his gig, even if it meant long stretches of boredom. At least he didn’t have to pretend to look busy; he just had to remember to smile when someone walked by, which was easy for him anyway.

            Today, he was pushing the cherry pie. His samples were looking a little sad, congealed from too much time sitting out, but no one who stopped by seemed to mind. Pie was pie to them, even if Bitty cringed internally every time he handed it out. His personal standards for pie were much higher than a normal person’s though and he had learned to accept that a long time ago.

            His shift was winding down when the Hot French Dad - _Jack_ \- rolled by again, this time with a cart full of blue gatorade and bulk packages of individual string cheese. Bitty would have to tell Lardo that they were both wrong on the snack front. Jack smiled at him, looming over his cart and Bitty’s sample table. (Seriously, was it even legal to be that buff?)

            Bitty smiled brightly at him.

            “Think I can get another piece of pie?” Jack asked, looking adorably shy about it. Bitty pressed his lips together to keep from laughing. Jack almost always came by wanting seconds on the samples when Bitty was working.

            “You know, it’s one sample per customer,” Bitty said, pretending to scold him while also reaching for the plastic forks.

            Bitty grabbed the least offensive piece of pie and handed it over.

            Jack took it with a small grin and his usually drooping blue eyes lifted at the corners in an adorable crinkle. Bitty darted his eyes back down to the table in front of him so he wouldn’t go visibly starry-eyed at the display.

            “I was hoping you might make an exception for me,” Jack said as he took a bite. He made an approving sound that was altogether far too attractive and Bitty almost rolled his eyes at himself. He tried so hard to avoid crushes on straight men and yet here he was, ogling a man just because he was eating pie and wearing a stupid, too-tight flannel shirt. He hated himself sometimes. He pasted a smile.

            “You should really just buy a pie, you know,” Bitty cajoled. “That way you won’t have to resort to stealing samples from me. I’m fairly certain I’ve slipped you extra samples of every pie and pastry we make in this place, you know.”

 _Not that I mind_ , Bitty added internally. He smiled at the other man, tilting his head towards one of the whole cherry pies and raising an eyebrow. Jack flushed and looked away, as though the display of cookies beside them was suddenly very interesting. He fiddled with his small plate in his hands and then looked back over to Bitty, as if he were evaluating him.

            “If I bought the pie,” the other man said carefully, raising an eyebrow of his own. “I wouldn’t have an excuse to talk to you, eh?”

            Bitty thought he might be having an aneurysm. Was Jack _flirting_ with him? That seemed impossible. Bitty was definitely reading way too far into that statement. ( _Right?_ ) He was sure that his mouth was hanging open. He quickly closed it, snapping his jaw shut and casting a look around them for someone to check with that he had heard Jack correctly and the suggestive tone in his voice was not pure imagination on his part.

            Where was Lardo when he really needed her? He needed her to be lurking nearby so she could evaluate if he was going crazy. In the meantime, Jack was looking back at him, waiting for his reaction. Bitty took his opening. If he got fired for hitting on a customer…well, at least it was in pursuit of a noble goal.

            “That would be a shame,” he said, measuring each word. He was walking a very fine line and he knew it, but Jack’s face still had a small smile on it, so Bitty pushed a little further. “I do like when you stop by.”

            He cast a meaningful look up and down Jack’s body that could not possibly be misinterpreted. When he caught Jack’s eye again, Jack was grinning at him, his cheeks a little flushed. The moment hung between them for what seemed like forever to Bitty, before Jack cleared his throat and moved a little closer, leaning in.

            “It’s Eric, right?” Jack asked.

            Bitty’s heart might have skipped several beats at the way Jack said his name. He frowned down at his name tag which cheerfully proclaimed his given name in large block letters. He fingered it for a moment and then shrugged.

            “Most people call me Bitty, actually,” he said. “They just wouldn’t let me put it on the name tag.

            “Bitty?” Jack asked, brow furrowed.

            “It’s a play on my last name.” Bitty shrugged again. He’d gotten the nickname in high school and it had been better than Dickey, which was what his mother had insisted he go by. “Bittle. Bitty.”

            Jack smiled and repeated the nickname again to himself, as if he were trying it out.

            “And your name?” Bitty ventured, although he already knew the answer. He thought that he should probably at least pretend that the entire staff of the store had not been low-key stalking Jack for the last few months.

            “Jack,” he said, holding out a hand for Bitty to shake. “Jack Zimmermann.”

            Bitty took his hand, holding onto it for longer than strictly necessary. Jack glanced down their clasped hands once and then smiled back up at Bitty. They stood there, smiling at each other for a long moment, before the sharp wail of a crying baby pierced the quiet. Bitty’s shoulders slumped a little as Jack looked away and their hands dropped away from each other.

            “When do you work next?” Jack asked as soon as the wailing subsided. Bitty’s heart fluttered again as he met Jack’s intense gaze.

            “Wednesday,” Bitty answered without thinking. “I get off around 8, you should come by then.”

            Jack’s mouth lifted into a smirk and Bitty, mortified, covered his mouth with one hand. Jack laughed, a deep chuckle, and Bitty ran a hand through his hair, mussing it. Jack’s eyes followed the motion before settling back on Bitty’s face. Impossibly, he was still smiling.

            “I will,” he promised. “Then…maybe after, we can get dinner?”

 


	2. #HotFrenchDadReturns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack’s POV from the Costco AU. Or, alternatively #HotFrenchDadReturns

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was for a writing meme on tumblr and as usual, i can't write drabbles, so here's another 1k words for this silly AU. :)

            The thing was: Jack didn’t even usually eat sweets. Much less _pie_. It was just the only reason he could think of to talk to the short, incredibly hot blonde man who was always handing out bakery samples. The first time he had seen _Eric_ (Jack had snuck a glance at his nametag), he had hoped that maybe if he started coming by Costco more often, he could catch the guy stocking shelves or at a register. It wasn’t until his third visit that he accidentally let it slip to Shitty that the reason he bought team snacks at the Costco was because he was hoping to find a casual reason to talk with a cute guy who worked there.

            “Jack Zimmermann, you’re a goddamn idiot,” Shitty had proclaimed. “He probably only works in the bakery or the sample table. Just get a piece of pie and say hello.”

            So, two visits later after Jack had summoned the requisite courage, he pushed his cart that was already full of peanut butter and apples over to the bakery and asked for a piece of pie. The smile that Eric had given to him was blinding and Jack had been so overwhelmed that he immediately left, taking his pie with him to the register and all the way to his car where he set it on the passenger seat and waited for his heart to stop hammering in his chest.

            He made it a regular thing after that to go to Costco for snacks whenever it was his turn in the rotation and he always grabbed a piece of pie from the cute blonde guy at the sample table. Sometimes he got two samples.

            Jack had practiced having conversations with Eric endlessly in his head, but when he was faced with the reality of him, he was always tongue-tied and awkward. He was convinced that Eric was only nice to him because it was his job to be and every time Jack went up and got another piece of pie from him, he probably thought that Jack was a lumbering idiot who took advantage of free samples. Jack didn’t even like pie.

            He was loitering in the frozen food aisle, killing time until it was reasonable to make a second attempt at conversation with Eric when his phone rang. It was Shitty.

            “Hey, what’s up?” he asked once he accepted the call.

            “Hey, man,” Shitty said. “Birkholtz and Oluransi wanted to know if we could come kick their asses at Madden tonight and then watch the Habs game after. You got plans?”

            “Uh, just shopping,” Jack said vaguely.

            “Brah, are you there right now?” Shitty asked and Jack could almost hear the shit-eating grin in his voice. Jack held the phone away from his ear and rolled his eyes, giving himself a moment.

            “Yes, I’m buying team snacks for the game tomorrow,” he said. “And some groceries.”

            “Jaaaaack, my man,” Shitty said. “It is time to ask that boy out. Get that ass that won’t quit in gear and ask him to dinner or I’m going to do it for you. You said cute, blonde, about 5’7 with pie in hand, right? Shouldn’t be too hard to find. Even Costco isn’t that big.”

            “Shitty,” Jack stopped him. “This is his place of work. I’m not going to ask him out.”

            “Jack, while I’m proud of you for respecting his personal space and yadda yadda,” Shitty said. “You’ve gotta screw your courage to the sticking point and put me out of my misery. If I have to hear about what kind of pie your lover boy at Costco gave you one more time without any solution to your crazy sexual tension, I’m gonna scream.”

            “I don’t –“ Jack started.

            “Brah, trust me,” Shitty said. “Ask him out.”

            “He might be straight,” Jack said, just for argument’s sake. He was fairly certain that Eric was _not_ straight, although he had no evidentiary proof to the opposite aside from a gut feeling and lingering looks.

            “One look at your ass and I’m sure he’ll re-consider,” Shitty said and that was the end of the argument because Jack was struck dumb by the ridiculous nature of that statement. He hung up shortly after and glancing at the time, started pushing his cart back over to the bakery. Eric was still there and when he saw Jack, he smiled brightly at him. Jack’s stomach flipped in nervous attraction. Eric’s eyes were huge and brown, always swirling with warmth.

            Jack swallowed, his mouth suddenly very dry.

            “Uh, think I can get another piece of pie?” he asked after a moment of paralyzed indecision about what to say. He felt a hot blush creeping on the back of his neck. Eric tilted his head and smiled as if something Jack had said was funny.

            “You know, it’s one sample per customer,” Eric said.

            Jack felt a momentary spike of panic. He had asked for a second sample plenty of times before and Eric had always seemed happy to give them to him. He’d never even known it was against the rules. Eric grinned at him a second later to show he was joking and winked when he handed Jack a new plate with pie on it. Jack took it with a grateful smile.

            “I was hoping you might make an exception for me,” he said, congratulating himself on such a smooth recovery. He took a bite of the pie to show how grateful he was and made a noise of appreciation even though it was a little cold and thick on his tongue.

            “You should really just buy a pie, you know,” Eric said and Jack looked up from his plate to see the smaller man appraising him. “That way you won’t have to resort to stealing samples from me. I’m fairly certain I’ve slipped you extra samples of every pie and pastry we make in this place, you know.”

            Jack’s stomach flipped again. This time from sheer nerves. Was this Eric finally telling him to get lost? He scrambled for something to say, licking some spare pie filling from his lips and twirling the fork in his hand.

            “If I bought the pie,” Jack said, choosing his words carefully. “I wouldn’t have an excuse to talk to you, eh?”

            Eric’s face froze for a long second and Jack seriously considered making a run for it. Then, right as Jack was looking for the best route out of the bakery area, Eric’s face melted into what might have been a smirk.

            “That would be a shame,” Eric said, low and flirtatious, and then right out of Jack’s best imaginings of how this might go, Eric raked his eyes over Jack’s body, obviously checking him out. “I do like when you stop by.”

            Jack was such a goner. There were practically alarm bells going off in his head right then because Eric looked so hot. His mind was a complete blank. He could feel a stupid smile on his face, but he couldn’t even remember how to make it go away. He cleared his throat and when nothing else came out, he stepped a little closer to the booth.

            “It’s Eric, right?” Jack asked, surprising himself.

            Eric grinned in clear delight and picked at the huge, colorful nametag that declared his name to customers. He shrugged.

            “Most people call me Bitty, actually.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope this brightens your day, wherever you are! ^_^

**Author's Note:**

> listen, jack is that stupidly hot coach/history teacher that everyone has a crush on and bitty is using this job at costco to put himself through culinary school obv. lardo is struggling artist who has to work in retail so she can eat things and survive. ransom is the ap chem teacher, holster teaches english lit and shitty is the other p.e. coach who also coaches all the women’s sports.
> 
> what do you mean you didn’t need any of that background information?
> 
> what do you mean i should probably stop writing a million variations on the fluffy zimbits AU trope?


End file.
